


Hard Day's Night

by darkxximagination



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-16
Updated: 2016-10-08
Packaged: 2018-08-15 07:35:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8047906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkxximagination/pseuds/darkxximagination
Summary: In the summer of 1964, Will Graham, a 16 year old Beatlemaniac meets Hannibal Lecter, a depressive and distant Lithuanian boy of the same age, who has just moved to England. Despite their many differences, the two boys end up falling in love and sharing a bond unlike anything they have ever experienced before.





	1. A Hard Day's Night

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was born out of one of my friends challenging me to combine the Beatles and Hannigram. The Beatles and their music will be all over this fic. But the story is not really about them, it's about teen!Hannigram. Hope you enjoy it!

 

 

“Shake it up baby now!” Will Graham sang loudly, as he was paddling fast down the road, heading home. “Twist and shout!” In his mind, he sounded just like John Lennon.  
  
It was the end of July in 1964 and the Beatles had taken over the world, becoming a global sensation. Will was 16 years old at the time – a beautiful, young lad with curly hair and shining blue eyes – and he was proud to be a member of the phenomenon the papers had named ‘Beatlemania’. He had all the records they had released, both the albums and the singles, all issues of The Beatles Monthly Book that had appeared until then – some in doubles – and two full collections of trading cards (it had been such a pain to collect all the colored ones, but the black and white ones were signed so he liked them more). He had seen their movie in cinema 6 times and he would have gone to see it a 7th time if he wouldn’t have ran out of money. Needless to say, there were not many things that Will loved more than the Beatles, except for maybe his father, who was the only family he had.  
  
As he got on his neighborhood street, Will noticed a long, black car that was stopped in front of the house right next to his. He stopped singing and started pedaling a bit slower, eyes never parting from the vehicle. A man and a boy, that Will thought to be about his age, were emptying the car, pulling suitcases from the trunk and the back seats. No one had lived in that house for over ten years. Will couldn’t even remember the last owners, since he had been a small child when they had moved out.  
  
“May I help you?” he asked, stopping the bike in front of his house.  
  
The man looked at him from head to toe once before shaking his head and walking to the door with two suitcases. He was wearing a three piece suit and a fancy hat and judging by the rigid way in which he walked – taking big, firm steps, his back perfectly straight, as if he had a big stick up his ass – Will could easily put a label on him in his mind: rich bastard. His father hated rich bastards. There weren’t many of them around there. Though that part of London wasn’t exactly poor, it wasn’t high class either. _‘Why would they move here?’  
_  
Will stared at the son of his new neighbors and when he passed by, the boy looked back at him, their eyes meeting. He had long, wavy black hair and the most intense eyes Will had ever seen. It wasn’t just the bright brown color, which made them appear almost yellow, it was the sadness behind them. That boy looked dead inside, soulless, as if something or someone had sucked the life right out of him. He was dressed in an expensive suit, just like his father, but Will didn’t feel like he could label him a ‘rich bastard’. He lacked the arrogance and entitlement that rich bastards generally possess.  
  
“Hey,” Will told him, with a small smile. “I’m Will.” The boy kept walking and entered the house fast, slamming the door behind him. Will sighed and then chuckled a bit to himself. “Lovely people.”  
  
He went inside his own house, pulling his bike after him and leaving it in the hall. Normally, he’d put his bike in the garage, which was in the back of the house, but he felt way too tired in that moment to bother with that. There was jazz music coming from the living-room and Will rolled his eyes. He hated jazz.  
  
“You have shitty taste in music,” he told his father, walking inside the room.  
  
The man laughed and shook his head. “As if yours is any better.” He was sitting on the couch with his feet on the table, holding a glass of whiskey in one hand and a cigarette in the other. “Are you hungry?”  
  
“Nah,” Will said. “I went to Eric’s house after work and ate there.”  
  
“Is that why you came home so late?”  
  
Will nodded and sat down next to his father, lighting himself a cigarette as well. “A family moved next door, you know?”  
  
“They came by like a week ago, to check the house out. I didn’t think they’d move in so fast though. Fucking Germans…”  
  
“They’re Germans?”  
  
“I think so. They have some really funny accents. I didn’t speak to them but I heard them talking.”  
  
Will thought about the boy he had seen outside and shook his head softly, taking a long puff of his Lucky Strike. “I don’t think they’re Germans. They don’t look like Germans, at least. A lot of people have funny accents, dad.”  
  
“Whatever they are, they’re not British. I know that they have a kid. Now don’t you go making friends with him. I don’t want no foreign rich bastard’s son running around my house.”  
  
Will laughed then looked at his father with a smile. Sometimes, the things he said were mean, hateful or even disturbing, but Will loved him anyway. He knew that deep inside, his father was a good man. “Don’t worry, dad. I doubt that boy would even want to hang out with a nobody like me.”  
  
“Hey. Don’t talk like that about yourself,” Mister Graham said, on an almost threatening tone. “You’re a beautiful, smart, hardworking young man, Will. And I’m very proud of you.”  
  
He caressed his back tenderly and Will smiled, getting up. “I’ll just go to my room before you start cuddling me or something.”  
  
“Yeah, yeah, run away. Close the door if you’ll start blasting that music!”  
  
Will smirked. His father knew him well. Blasting the music was exactly what he planned to do. He had worked hard all day, except for the couple of hours he had spent with Eric. It had all started as a joke. He applied for the job at that bike shop thinking he would never get hired. After all, who would hire a kid to fix motorcycles, regardless of how good he was at it? But, to his luck, Mister Roberts was a man who had a lot of faith in the youth of Britain. After giving him a test that Will scored easily, he hired him, full time. He knew a lot of kids of his age who worked, but none who did it full time and none who got 80 pounds a week. That was almost as much as his father made. It was a great job and he was planning to keep doing it even after school started again in the fall, even if it would be quite difficult to keep up with both.  
  
The record was already in the player, since he had listened to it in the morning, while getting ready for work. ‘A Hard Day’s Night’ was the latest album the Beatles had released and Will had been obsessed with it ever since he had first got his hands on it. He knew each song by heart, each note, but even so, every time he’d listen to it, he felt as if he was hearing it for the first time. He turned it on, setting it on the highest volume after closing the door as his father had asked him. Mister Graham didn’t like Rock’n’Roll, but he didn’t complain about it, which his son greatly appreciated.  
  
He was feeling so tired, but as soon as the music started, it was like a beam of electricity ran through him, giving him energy. “It’s been a hard day’s night!” he sang along to the song, letting himself fall on his back on the bed. He closed his eyes and imagined what it would be like to actually see the Beatles in person, singing just a few feet away from him. A concert ticket was the only thing that he didn’t have in his collection and the thing he wanted most. They were rather expensive and they got sold very fast. He had never been able to get one, either out of lack of money or because he had arrived too late to buy them. _‘I will see them one day…’_ he told himself.  
  
While the record was still playing, Will reached into the drawer of his nightstand and pulled out his stack of weed cigarettes. He just had three left. Those weren’t going to last him too long. Making a mental note to go see Teddy the next day so he could get more, he got up from the bed and opened the window. His father knew about the normal cigarettes, but not about the weed and while Will doubted he’d cause a scene if he’d find out, he didn’t want to risk it, so he always made sure the smell wouldn’t remain in his room.  
  
The first time he had smoked it, it had been amazing. He had seen lights and colors he had never seen before, he had felt as if he was floating and he had believed that he could do anything. At that point though, two years later, it was nothing more than a habit. He saw and felt nothing special. It just made him feel really calm and it helped him sleep.  
  
“Can you turn that down, please?” A voice came from the window.  
  
Will got up in a standing position and looked outside. The window next door was opened and the boy he had seen earlier was standing behind it, his hands pressed on the wooden frame, a disturbed look upon his face.  
  
“What?” Will asked, getting up from the bed and walking to the window, with his half smoked cigarette in between his lips.  
  
“I asked if you could please turn that down,” the boy repeated, a bit louder this time. “I can hear it from here.” He did have a funny accent.  
  
Will laughed. “Mate, we could probably shake hands if we both stretched far enough. Of course you can hear it. What? You don’t like it?”  
  
“It’s loud and obnoxious. I, myself, prefer classical music.”  
  
“Wow… You’re worse than my dad.”  
  
The boy’s irritation seemed to grow, though his expression didn’t change much. “Are you going to turn it down or not?”  
  
“Maybe if you tell me your name first. I’m not gonna turn the Beatles down for no stranger.”  
  
“Hannibal. My name is Hannibal Lecter.”  
  
“Hannibal…” Will repeated. It was a strange name. Clearly not one he had ever heard before. He went to his record player and turned the volume down a bit before returning to the window. “Are you from Germany?”  
  
“I’m from Lithuania.”  
  
“I don’t even know where that is,” Will said, with a small smile.  
  
“That’s not a big surprise, judging by the fact that you are nothing but a street punk.”  
  
“Hey, fuck you! Who the Hell do you think you are?!”  
  
They just stared at each other for a moment that felt like an hour, before Hannibal closed his window and pulled the curtains. Will walked to the nightstand where his ashtray was and pressed his cigarette on it so hard, he almost knocked it over. He was pissed. He had never felt so offended in his life. It wasn’t the fact that Hannibal called him a street punk, it was the way he said it, with so much superiority, as if he wanted to make Will feel like shit. _‘What the Hell is his problem? I haven’t done anything to him!’_  
  
He turned the music on again, just as loud as before, both to calm himself down and to piss Hannibal off. “Maybe he is a rich bastard after all…” he said to himself.


	2. I Should Have Known Better

The next day, when Will Graham woke up, he had forgotten everything about Hannibal Lecter and the mean way in which the boy had treated him. He never allowed negative things people said about him to get to him too much. If he would have, he’d have probably killed himself by the time he was fourteen. Children could be very cruel and Will had been their target ever since he was in first grade. They would make fun of his cheap clothes and his curly hair and his ears. He had been called every name in the book and by the time he got to high-school, he had learned to block it out and not care anymore. It made life easier.  
  
His father was gone already when he went downstairs at 8 AM, after showering and getting dressed. Will was used to spending his mornings alone. His father left the house at 6 AM every day. Will’s job, however, didn’t start until 9:30. He walked into the kitchen and turned on the radio on the rock’n’roll station, listening to some music as he drank a cup of coffee and smoked about 5 cigarettes. That had been his breakfast ever since he was 13.  
  
A knock in the door disturbed him at 8:25 and Will looked at the clock twice to confirm the time. The only people who ever came to visit were his friends, who were probably still sleeping soundly at that hour, and his father’s friends, who were at work with his father. People from school would come by sometimes, to inform Mister Graham of his son cutting class, smoking on the corridors and getting into fights (to which Mister Graham usually responded by slamming the door in their face), but school was over and there was a month left until it would start again.  
  
Will walked towards the door, holding a half smoked cigarette in his hand and wondering who was crazy enough to show up at that hour. Out of all the people that crossed his mind, his new, mean little Lithuanian neighbored was the last he expected to see when he opened the front door. He wasn’t even on the list, but there he was, standing in front of him, wearing one of his fancy suits and looking at the ground.  
  
“What do you want?” Will asked.  
  
“I came to apologize to you for the way I treated you last night,” Hannibal said. “It was rude and uncalled for. I want you to know I don’t usually behave that way. I was… It was just a bad time.”  
  
That was another thing Will had not expected. None of the people who had been mean to him or hurt him had ever apologized. Hannibal seemed truly embarrassed and regretful of his actions and that made Will change the opinion he had formed about him. He was probably not a bad kid after all.  
  
“I forgive you, mate,” he told him, with a small smile. “Do you want to come inside?” Hannibal looked up at him and nodded, so Will stepped out of the way and left him enter. “I have to go to work in like half an hour, but you could drink a cup of coffee with me, if you want.”  
  
“No, thank you. I drank some at home, during breakfast,” Hannibal replied, while they were walking together to the kitchen. “But I can wait for you to finish yours.”  
  
“That would be very nice of you.”  
  
He was really polite and well mannered, like a little prince. Even the way he walked held some sort of elegance. Will couldn’t understand why the boy had been so rude to him before, but after they both sat down at the table and looked at each other, he understood. It was that sadness.  
  
“So how old are you?” Will asked.  
  
“16,” Hannibal answered.  
  
“Same as me.” Will took a puff of his cigarette and left the smoke out through his nose. “Do you want one?”  
  
Hannibal shook his head. “No, thank you. I don’t smoke.”  
  
Will raised his eyebrow. He didn’t believe him. He had never met a sixteen year old boy who didn’t smoke. _‘Maybe people are different where he’s from,’_ he thought."How long are you going to stay here in England?”  
  
“If things work well, forever, probably. My father found a job already and he also found a school for me to attend starting fall.”  
  
“What school?”  
  
Hannibal paused for a moment, looking as if he was trying hard to remember. “I can’t remember the name… But I know it’s a boarding school.”  
  
“A private school,” Will nodded, not too surprised by the information. “Of course your parents wouldn’t send you to a public school with the rest of us.”  
  
“I wish they would. I am not exactly thrilled about living for a whole year inside a school, in a country I’ve never been before… But my father thinks it’s best that way.”  
  
“Why?”  
  
Hannibal looked down and shrugged. He looked even sadder – if that was even possible – and Will found another reason to find rich bastards despicable. They were obviously bad parents.  
  
“Do you have any friends here?”  
  
“No. I didn’t even have friends in my own country. Except for my sister... But she… She couldn’t come.”  
  
“I see…” Will pressed the burning end of his cigarette in the ashtray. He felt bad for Hannibal. He didn’t pity him, but he thought the kid needed some help. He needed something to take his mind off whatever depressing things he was always thinking of. And he clearly needed friends. “I will go out with some of my friends tonight. Would you like to come?”  
  
Hannibal seemed surprised and a bit intimidated by his invitation. His brown eyes kept moving from him to the table and then back up. “I’m not sure… I don’t know those boys. I barely even know you.”  
  
“Well, nobody knows anyone until they meet, right? Just give it a try. My friends are good guys. You’ll like them.” Will reached over the table and slapped Hannibal’s shoulder friendly. “Come on, man. Live a little.”  
  
It took Hannibal a moment longer, but he eventually agreed. He didn’t seem very anxious, but it didn’t matter. Will was happy about it anyway. He could relate to Hannibal, even if they came from completely different worlds. There were many things he didn’t understand about the Lithuanian boy, but that sadness and loneliness… He could definitely understand that.

 

*

 

Will thought about Hannibal all day at work. He did his job perfectly, as always, but his mind kept going back to that boy. He wondered why Hannibal’s sister hadn’t been able to come to England with the rest of the Lecter family and why Hannibal’s father wanted to send him to a boarding school instead of a normal one. He was sure that his own father would have never sent him away, but Hannibal came from a different world. A rigid world, full of so much etiquette and rules that there was no room left for love or compassion. Hannibal had not told him that, but Will knew. He had been able to read it in his golden eyes. Because of that, Will feared that Hannibal might not even show up that day, though he had accepted the invitation. He had hope, but not too much of it.  
  
He made sure to eat plenty when he got home. He planned to drink a lot that night and he knew that attempting that on an empty stomach was a bad idea. His father wasn’t going to be home until late at night, when he’d crawl in completely wasted and fall asleep on the living room couch. It always happened like that during Friday nights. Because of that, Will had learned to cook his own food from a very young age. He made fish and chips that day. It was his favorite dish and that was going to be a special night if Hannibal was going to show up. And he did.  
  
Will was ready when he heard the knock in the door. He was wearing a comfortable pair of blue jeans, a white shirt that he had left half unbuttoned and a black, leather jacket on top, and he had spent almost an hour trying to get his hair to look as good as he could possibly manage. He would have given anything to have straight hair and not that curly mess. Hannibal, however, looked as if he was ready for a wedding.  
  
“What the Hell, man?” Will said, pulling him inside the house and staring at him from head to toe. The boy’s long, black hair was combed back and the suit he was wearing made Will think of the wealthy people he often saw in history books.  
  
“What?” Hannibal asked, confused.  
  
“First of all, these are not the 20s, okay? Second, we are not going to a 5 star restaurant. And third, what the Hell were you thinking?”  
  
“I… I’m sorry.” Hannibal looked down at his clothes for a moment. “I did not think my outfit would be unsuitable for the occasion.”  
  
“It’s very unsuitable. Everyone will stare at you strange if you appear there dressed like this. Come with me. I’ll let you borrow some of my clothes. I think we’re about the same size.”  
  
Hannibal just nodded in agreement. Will smiled and took his hand, pulling him up the stair and into his room. _‘This is gonna be so much fun! I’ll make him look so cool!’_ Taking a boy like Hannibal, who had clearly lived his entire life in the high-society, and making him belong to his group was an opportunity that Will wanted to take advantage of as much as possible. The idea itself delighted him.  
  
“Wow…” Hannibal said, as soon as they stepped into Will’s bedroom. He stared fascinated at Will’s walls, which were almost completely covered in pictures of the Beatles of different sizes and colors. Most people had that reaction when they saw his room for the first time, so Will just smiled and went straight to his wardrobe, opening it and searching for clothes. “So you’re one of those people, huh?”  
  
“A fan?”  
  
“I don’t think the word ‘fan’ can cover this.”  
  
“Thank you. I will take that as a compliment.”  
  
Hannibal laughed. “Are you…aroused by them or something?”  
  
“Well, to be perfectly honest with you, if John Lennon wanted to fuck me, I’d probably let him do it. His voice sounds like sex, man. Pure, hot sex!” Hannibal laughed again, a bit louder this time. Will picked up a pair of black jeans and threw them to his friend, who caught them with both hands, and he turned to look at him with a smile. “But that’s not the reason I love them so much, if that’s what you’re wondering. Put those on. And take everything off except the shirt. That shirt can stay. It’s nice.”  
  
He turned around as Hannibal started taking his pants off, looking at one of his posters instead. “Why then?” Hannibal asked. “Why do you love them so much?”  
  
“They make me forget…”  
  
“Forget what?”  
  
Will raised his shoulders, still staring at the poster. “Everything. The loneliness I sometimes feel, the fact that my mum left when I was just a baby and never even bothered to come by, the fact that we live in a shitty world, ruled by people who don’t give a fuck about anything but themselves…” he sighed. “There are a lot of things out there to forget.”  
  
“How do they make you forget about all that?”  
  
“You didn’t listen to them much, did you?”  
  
“I haven’t,” Hannibal admitted, while removing his coat, vest and tie. “As I told you before, I prefer classical music.”  
  
Will walked to him and undid the first four buttons of his shirt, pushing it enough to make a rather large part of Hannibal’s chest show. “All they sing about is love,” he explained. “That reminds me that I have yet to be truly happy. I have yet to find someone to fall in love with and who will love me back. I am sure things will make more sense then. And I won’t be lonely anymore.”  
  
“Love doesn’t always solve everything. Love can be painful and cruel… Don’t they ever sing about that?”  
  
“They do. But pain that comes out of love is different than normal pain. That’s a pain that’s worth going through.”  
  
Will placed both his hands on Hannibal’s head and began ruffling his hair, messing it up and bringing it to the front. “What are you doing to me?”  
  
“Shut up. I’m making you look really cool.” He brushed it with his fingers while Hannibal kept giggling. “I wish my hair was as straight as yours, you know? Then I could get a haircut like theirs.”  
  
“A Beatle haircut?” Hannibal laughed. “No. No, no, no. That would look terrible on you. Please don’t do that to yourself. You look really beautiful like this, with the hair you have right now.”  
  
Will stopped trying to fix Hannibal’s hair and just looked at him, a smirk on his face. “You think I’m beautiful?”  
  
“Very beautiful. For a guy, I mean.”  
  
“Right.” Will looked down, still smiling. “Well, you look alright now. There’s just one thing missing.” He walked back to his wardrobe and picked up one of his denim jackets, handing it to Hannibal. “Hell yeah! Now we’re ready to go,” he said, as soon as Hannibal put the jacket on.  
  
“Where are we going anyway?”  
  
“To a club,” Will informed him. “It’s a bit far away but we’ll make it there rather fast on my motorcycle.”  
  
Will led Hannibal down the stairs and to the back door of his house, which led to the garage. His motorcycle was there and a big, empty space where his dad’s car would have been if the man was home. “Do you have a license?” Hannibal asked, while Will was opening the door to the garage.  
  
“No, but I can ride the damn thing better than anyone so it doesn’t matter.”  
  
Will took the motorcycle outside, followed closely by Hannibal, and he closed the garage door before getting on the vehicle. His friend didn’t seem to want to ride with him though. “Are you gonna get on or not?”  
  
“What about the police?”  
  
“Fuck the police. They never caught me before, they won’t catch me now. Come on! Get on!”  
  
Hannibal sighed and climbed behind him. Will smiled when he felt the boy’s unsure hands wrapping around his waist. “No helmets?”  
  
“No helmets. I mean, the worst that could happen is that we might fall and die.”  
  
Hannibal chuckled and held onto him a bit tighter. “You are insane.”  
  
“Hell yeah, I am. Does that scare you?”  
  
“No…” Hannibal said. “I think I actually like that about you.”  
  
Will smiled again and took off, at full speed, the way he always did. It was the first time he rode with a guy behind him, holding onto him. He had taken many girls for rides before, but never a guy and the strangest part was that it did not feel awkward or uncomfortable. It actually felt really good. Hannibal was not buffed, but he was not as fragile as a girl either. The firm grip of his arms felt almost painful, his perfume was amazing, (unlike the flowery, overly sweet scent that usually came from the girls Will knew) and his chest, pressed against Will’s back, was as cozy as a pillow. Will was almost sad that the road to the club was so short. He thought about not stopping, about just riding on, past the club, out of London, get lost into the middle of nowhere, just him and Hannibal. He didn’t do that though. _That_ would have been awkward and he doubted his new friend would agree with it.  
  
‘Home of Rock’n’Roll’ was the name of the club Will and his friends spent most of their nights in, and it fit it perfectly because whenever they were there, they felt more at home than in their own houses. Eric’s father owned the club, so to him, it really was home. The strong smell of cigarettes and alcohol would hit you like a punch in the face if you were a newcomer, but those who were used to it were completely unbothered. Hannibal coughed and covered his nose with his hand when they entered the club, while Will just looked around for his friends and smiled when he finally saw them waving at him from a table in the back, close to the stage.  
  
“Do we really have to stay here?” Hannibal asked. “I think I might die of asphyxiation.”  
  
“Just give it a few minutes and you’ll get used to the smoke. I promise. Come on!”  
  
 Will grabbed Hannibal’s arm with his hand and dragged him towards his friends. There were 12 tables in the club, spread across the large room. The bar was on the right side and the stage was in the back. There was live music on Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays. The club was always full during those days. Even if the people who would come play there were not real artists, they were all pretty decent singers and it felt nice to cheer for them. It was clearly better than listening to records playing in the background.  
  
Each table held about 5 people and they were all full except for the one where Eric and Teddy were sitting. They each had a glass of whiskey in front of them. Teddy’s dark brown hair was even curlier than Will’s and no comb had managed to enter it since he was in 4 th grade. He was wearing jeans and a black t-shirt with the Rolling Stones logo and their name written in red. Eric had black leather pants on and a white tank top. His leather jacket was thrown on the sit next to him and he picked it up and pulled it on his lap when Will and Hannibal arrived. His blonde hair was shining almost as bright as the three ear-rings from his left ear. Will sat down next to him and Hannibal sat next to Teddy, who threw him a confused and bothered look.  
  
“Hey, man! We were waiting for you. What took you so long?”  
  
Will shook his hand and bent over the table to shake Teddy’s hand as well. “Sorry, we were a bit delayed. I had to give him some of my clothes.”  
  
“Who the Hell is he?” Teddy asked.  
  
“He’s my new neighbor. His name is Hannibal,” Will said, while removing his jacket. “God, I need a fucking drink!”  
  
“Hannibal?” Teddy repeated. “Your name sounds like ‘cannibal’ but fancier. Are you a cannibal?”  
  
“I am not,” Hannibal answered, disturbed. “It’s a Lithuanian name.”  
  
“It’s a serial killer name, mate.” Teddy laughed. “Can I call you cannibal?”  
  
“You may not.”  
  
“Hey, knock it off, Teddy,” Will said, kicking his friend’s leg under the table. “He’s my friend. If you make fun of him, I will break your balls.”  
  
“Alright, chill,” Teddy pushed his hands up in the air. “Don’t shoot.” He then turned to look at Hannibal. “I’m sorry, I was just joking. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Teddy.”  
  
He offered him his hand and Hannibal shook it. “Pleasure.”  
  
“And I’m Eric. Any friend of Will’s is my friend too.”  
  
“How did you guys meet?” Hannibal asked.  
  
“Me and Will go way back,” Teddy said. “We’ve been friends since we were like ten. We met Eric when we were 12, he was 16 at the time. He was like our Master, man, he taught us everything we know, from how to roll a joint to how to properly lick pussy.”  
  
Will and Eric laughed and Will nodded in agreement. “He’s right. Eric did teach us everything. We owe you so much, man. Without you, we’d still be a bunch of nerdy losers.”  
  
“That would be fucking tragic.” Eric lit up a cigarette and handed it to Will, before making a sign with his hand to the waiter. “There’s something I gotta tell you, Will. You’re gonna have to sing tonight, my boy.”  
  
“What??”  
  
“Look, the band that my dad hired for tonight came but their vocalist couldn’t make it. So, I told my dad that you can replace him since you have a great voice.”  
  
“Why would you lie to him like that?”  
  
“I wasn’t lying. You do have a great voice.” Eric looked up at the waiter who had come to take their orders. “Two double whiskeys, please. And tell my dad Will’s here.”  
  
The man nodded and left. Will stared at Eric with a pissed off look, smoking his cigarette.”I can’t do this, man. I can’t.”  
  
“Sure you can!” Eric encouraged him. “You sang a bunch of times for us. I know your voice. You’re good! The band knows a bunch of Beatles and Elvis songs. You’re gonna do well. You will blow this roof off!”  
  
“I was just messing around when I sang for you guys. And I thought you guys were messing around too when you’d tell me I’m good. You’re my friends, it’s your job to tell me I don’t suck, even if I do.”  
  
“But you don’t suck, man,” Teddy said. “You’re awesome! You could be the fifth Beatle!”  
  
“Not with that hair, he couldn’t,” Eric joked.  
  
Will flipped him and they both giggled. He had never thought he’d be ask to sing in front of an audience. He loved music, but it had never occurred to him that he had any sort of talent at it. Besides, he was very shy. Hannibal was sitting there, just looking at him silently. Will had almost forgotten about him. “What do you think?”  
  
“I think you should do it,” Hannibal replied. “I’d love to hear you sing.”  
  
The waiter returned with their drinks and Will finished his from one single, fast sip, placing the glass down on the table hard and letting out a loud breath. “Fine! I will do this shit!”  
  
Eric and Teddy cheered while Hannibal just smiled to him in approval. ‘What’s the worst that can happen?’ Will thought. If he sucked, he would just get kicked off the stage, which he wouldn’t mind. If he was good, he’d get free drinks all night. It was a good deal.  
  
He drank two more glasses of whiskey before Hannibal even got to finish the first one that had been brought to him. They exchanged looks and smiles while Eric and Teddy kept cracking jokes and acting like the stupid lunatics Will loved so much. Hannibal didn’t seem to be enjoying himself too much – he was clearly out of his element – but he didn’t seem to find the situation intolerable either. He was alright and Will thought that was all that mattered.  
  
“So do you think you’ll be able to see the Beatles this month?” Teddy asked, when Will was at his forth drink.  
  
“No, there’s no way. They are not coming to London this month. Besides, all the tickets are sold except for the VIP ones and I don’t have enough money for that.” Will sighed. “I’ll have to wait until next summer, I guess.”  
  
“That’s really fucking sad. I’m so sorry for you.”  
  
“Do you like the Beatles?” Eric asked, looking at Hannibal.  
  
“I have nothing against them, but to be honest, I find the reaction people have to them and the mass infatuation they have caused to be far more fascinating than their music.”  
  
Will and his friends gazed at Hannibal silently for a moment before bursting into laugher. “You are one strange kid, Hanni,” Teddy told him.  
  
“Please, don’t call me ‘Hanni’. That sounds terrible.”  
  
“Sounds like ‘honey’ in a weird accent,” Eric commented. “Makes you two look like queers.”  
  
“That is not the issue,” Hannibal said. “I have no problems with homosexuals. You guys shouldn’t either. I mean, I am almost entirely sure that Lennon has a thing for McCartney. I’ve seen them in many interviews and their friendship is very questionable.”  
  
“I’m sorry, did he just call John a fag?” Teddy asked, looking at Eric and Will and then at Hannibal. He seemed extremely offended. “I will beat the shit out of you, mate.”  
  
“Hey, hey! Calm down!” Will yelled. “Teddy, I told you to leave him alone. And you, Hannibal. It’s seriously a bad idea to insult the Beatles when you’re surrounded by their ‘infatuated’ fans.”  
  
“I was not insulting them. I was just saying that –“  
  
“Drop it!” Will warned him. “I mean it.”  
  
Hannibal closed his mouth and stopped talking, probably understanding that it was better for him to shut up. Will had not find his remark bothersome at all. If he thought about it, he knew what Hannibal meant and he had also noticed that John and Paul seemed to have a closer relationship with each other than with the rest of the Beatles. He had wondered, but those thoughts were not some he’d ever express out loud, especially not in front of homophobic people, like his two best friends.  
  
“Will, you have to go up there,” Eric said, looking at the stage. The band had started bringing their instruments in. “My dad is in the back of the stage, if you want to talk to him about it.”  
  
“Alright. Can you please make sure these two don’t kill each other while I am up there?” Will requested, looking at Hannibal and Teddy.  
  
Eric smirked. “Don’t worry about them. I got it. Go rock!”  
  
Will nodded and took a deep breath in before getting up. The anxiety he felt was making him shiver as he was walking to the back of the stage, but he tried his best to appear calm. Mister Wright, Eric’s father, was a tall man in his early 40s, with blue eyes and hair as blonde as his son’s. He looked like 30 and he acted even younger than that. A teenager trapped in an adult’s body – that’s how everyone who knew him would describe him. He smiled when he saw Will and he gave him a tight hug.  
  
“You saved the night, kid. I was desperate until Eric told me that you were going to sing.”  
  
“About that… I am not sure if I’m good enough.”  
  
“Oh, you’re just modest! Christopher, come here!” he yelled. The guitarist left the stage and walked next to them. Will shook his hand awkwardly and gave him a small smile. “What do you want to start with?”  
  
“Uhm… A Hard Day’s Night?” Will suggested.  
  
“Excellent choice! I love it!”  
  
Will smiled again and looked at Christopher. “Do you guys know to play that song?”  
  
“Yeah. We recently learned all the songs from the new album.”  
  
“Great,” Will said, breathing out in relief. “Then how about we start with that and if they like it we can go on with the other songs?”  
  
“Sounds good to me.”  
  
Will muttered a fast ‘okay’ and closed his eyes, shaking his head. “I can’t believe I’m actually going to do this.” Mister Wright and Christopher both tapped his back and he laughed nervously, trying to regain some self control. “Alright. Let’s rock this place!”  
  
When he got up on the stage, the lights in the club turned off and the spotlights turned on, while everyone cheered and clapped. Will walked to the microphone and looked at everyone. The club seemed a lot bigger and fuller when seen from that spot. Christopher whispered something to his band members before looking at Will and nodding. He nodded back and they started playing the song. Will closed his eyes, imagining that he’s at home, alone. That was when he sang best.  
  
As soon as he opened his mouth and started singing, everyone cheered again, even louder than before. He wasn’t sure if it was because they liked his voice or simply because they liked the song. It was a good response either way. It made Will grow more confidence and he opened his eyes and smiled, still singing. He looked at his friends. Eric and Teddy were clapping and singing along to the lyrics, while Hannibal looked at him almost mesmerized. Will winked at him and the boy smiled and winked back. _‘I’m good,’_ Will thought. _‘I’m actually fucking good!’_  
  
People wanted more when he was done and Will sang three more songs before taking a small break to pour two shots of vodka down his throat. When he returned to the stage, he was feeling even better and he sang an amazing version of ‘Twist And Shout’, with a passion that Eric told him later on it would have made even Lennon jealous. While singing, Will’s eyes kept meeting Hannibal’s, and at moments he felt as if it was just the two of them in the room and each song he sang was for him. He had no idea why. _‘Am I flirting with him?’_ It felt like he was. The only thing missing was for him to blow Hannibal a kiss.  
  
“You are incredible!” Mister Wright said when Will got off the stage, after singing about 10 songs in total. “Would you like to come sing here every weekend? I could pay you for it. Everyone loves you!”  
  
Will laughed and shook his head. “I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it. It’s a nice offer though.”  
  
He was too drunk to think about it seriously. He had drank more than 6 shots of vodka while singing. The lights in the club seemed brighter than before and the entire room was spinning with him. His head felt heavy and his body felt light. It was the weirdest combination. As he was making his way back to his friends’ table, he kept getting patted on the back and congratulated by everyone he was passing by. _‘They really do love me!’  
  
_ “Here comes our rock star!” Eric said, getting up from his seat and hugging Will when he finally reached them. “You were amazing, brother!”  
  
“Thank you.” Will said. “Do you have some weed?”  
  
“For you, I have anything you want.”  
  
Will sat down, looking at Hannibal. “I’m sorry I left you here alone. This is not how I planned your first night out with me to be.”  
  
“Don’t worry,” Hannibal said. “I had the best time of my life watching you sing. You have a beautiful voice, Will. You actually made me enjoy that music.”  
  
Will bent over the table and ruffled Hannibal’s hair up. “I knew you’d come to your senses! This is good fucking music, man.”  
  
“The best music!” Eric added, handing Will a joint.  
  
While smoking it, Will noticed that Hannibal was smiling a lot, almost as if he couldn’t stop, which was strange, considering how sad he always seemed to be. He looked down at the empty glass of whiskey Hannibal had in front of him and smiled back. “How many of those did you drink?”  
  
“I don’t know… Six, maybe?”  
  
“Eight,” Teddy answered in his place. “Almost an entire bottle, mate. And I don’t think he’s used to it.”  
  
“This is the first time I ever drank alcohol, actually,” Hannibal said, giggling and they all laughed.  
  
Will believed him but he knew his friends probably didn’t. He had made Hannibal look like one of them so they thought he was just another rock’n’roller who just so happened not to appreciate the Beatles enough. They had no idea that he was a fancy, high class boy, with rich bastards for parents.  
  
Hannibal refused to try any drugs, but he agreed to let them teach him to smoke cigarettes. He choked when he first tried them, which made Eric laugh so hard, he almost gagged on his beer. By the time he reached the forth cigarette though, Hannibal smoked like a pro and could even make small little circles out of smoke, which Will thought to be really freaking cool.  
  
It was over 3 AM when they finally crawled out of the bar, holding onto each other so they wouldn’t fall. Eric’s house was right next to the bar and Teddy decided to spend the night over. Will and Hannibal couldn’t do that though. Will’s dad would worry if he didn’t came back home and Hannibal’s parents were probably already worried to death.  
  
“They don’t even know I left,” Hannibal laughed, while they were walking home.  
  
Riding the motorcycle back would have been a bad idea, so Will left it parked in front of the club, and they had refused Eric’s father’s offer of giving them a ride back home in his car. The night air was cold and Will thought it might sober them up a bit.  
  
“You didn’t tell them??”  
  
“I didn’t think we’d be gone for so long. Besides, they would have never left me go out with you if they knew. They think you’re a rat.”  
  
“A rat?!” Will repeated, feeling insulted.  
  
“That’s what my father called you. A street rat,” Hannibal giggled. “Don’t take it personal. He thinks everyone who isn’t rich is a rat.”  
  
“What about you? What do you think?”  
  
They both stopped and Hannibal gazed deeply in his eyes for a moment. “I think you’re the greatest guy I ever met and I’m honored that you’ve accepted me as your friend.”  
  
Will chuckled and started walking again. “You’re just bullshitting me now.”  
  
“I’m not! I really mean it. And I’m really sorry that I was so quick to judge you yesterday… I was stupid. I should have known better.”  
  
Will smiled and wrapped his arm around Hannibal’s shoulders. “I’ve forgiven you for that already. But thank you anyway. I never thought that someone like you could ever even consider being friends with someone like me.”  
  
“I could say the same.”  
  
Hannibal pressed a kiss on the side of Will’s head and Will closed his eyes tightly, laughing loudly. “If Teddy saw that he’d think it’s so gay.”  
  
“Fuck Teddy,” Hannibal said.  
  
“Now that would actually be gay.”  
  
They kept walking down the streets together, stumbling around and laughing at the most stupid things. Will was happy that he had met Hannibal. He was completely different than Teddy and Eric. They were his buddies, the people he loved to hang out with and get wasted with, but Hannibal was someone with whom he felt like he could enjoy sitting down and doing nothing just as much as he had enjoyed getting drunk with him. Hannibal was the one he had enjoyed looking at while he was singing. Will didn’t know what that meant yet, but he thought he had finally found the best friend he could ever have.


	3. If I Fell

In his sixteen years of life, Hannibal Lecter had never done anything that could upset his parents. He thought their rules were fair and easy to live by, so abiding to them had never been a problem for him. Of course, that didn’t mean they had never had arguments or fights – his childhood had not been that perfect and his parents were not that reasonable – but he had managed to escape any real teenage drama and to have an overall good relationship with his mother and father. That, however, changed drastically after meeting Will Graham.  
  
Mr. Lecter had felt a complete disdain for the British boy from the moment he had first seen him, and while Mrs. Lecter didn’t really care as much, she had always been highly influenced by her husband’s opinions, so it was safe to assume that they both hated the kid, and the main reason for their feelings was the fact that Will Graham, no matter how sweet, polite or kind, was a poor boy from a poor family.   
  
A ‘street rat’, that was how Mr. Lecter had described Will. “Nothing but a street rat. It’s so obvious by the way he dresses. I don’t understand how his family can even afford living here. I’ve been told this is the best neighborhood in this damn city.” Those words rang loudly in Hannibal’s foggy head while he was trying to unlock the front door as quietly as he could. His hands were trembling, a mixture of anxiety and drunkenness. He envied Will, who had entered his own house without a care in the world, slamming the front door in the process. If he did that and his parents would awaken and realize he had sneaked out of the house while they were unaware and had been gone for hours, dressed as a ‘street rat’ and getting drunk with the other ‘rats’, they were capable of killing him.   
  
There was no doubt in Hannibal’s mind about that, but for some reason, the consequences of his actions had not reached his brain while he was in the Home Of Rock’n’Roll or while he kept ordering glass after glass. They had not even reached him when he was walking back home with Will, stumbling down the streets and laughing. But in that moment, when he was in front of that door, praying to God that he would be able to make it to his bedroom without waking his parents up, the realization finally hit him and it was a horrible feeling. It was cold sweat and a tension in his chest and stomach that made his guts turn painfully. ‘I can do this…’ he told himself.  
  
As soon as the door was unlocked, Hannibal opened it gently, closing his eyes tightly as he heard it squeak. The sound made the tension in his chest grow, but he left out a hard breath of relief when he opened his eyes and saw that all the lights were turned off and there was no sign of his parents anywhere. _‘Okay… I got this.’_ He entered the house and closed the door behind him. He considered leaving it unlocked, not wanting to go through the painful process of slowly locking it back, but he decided to do it anyway. If the door was unlocked when his parents would wake up in the morning, they would have known he had been out.   
  
Hannibal didn’t realize how dizzy he really was until the key was back in his pocket and he tried to make his way through the hall and get to the stairs. He had been holding onto Will while walking back home and he had used the wall of his house and then the door to hold him up later on. Without the help of anything, Hannibal found it extremely difficult to keep his balance. It was as if his legs had forgotten how to properly function. The house seemed to be spinning around with him, as if he was stuck in a carousel, and the darkness wasn’t making things any easier. He felt a mixture of happiness and ease when he finally reached the stairs, but at the same time, he feared it might be tricky to climb them. He cursed and blamed himself in his mind for drinking so much while holding onto the railing firmly and walking up.  
  
By the time he got upstairs, he was convinced everything would turn out right. He could already imagine himself getting to his room, changing into his pajama quietly and going to bed. He was thinking about where he would hide Will’s clothes until he could return them to him when he tripped, falling hard onto the ground and letting out a sound of surprise and pain. It took him a moment to fully realize what had happened. The fall had made his nausea and dizziness increase, to the point where he thought he might throw up on the immaculate floors of the first floor hallway, right in front of his parents’ bedroom. That would have been something.  
  
“What was that? Did you hear that, dear?”  
  
_‘Shit…’_ Hannibal thought, at the sound of his mother’s voice. He tried to get up, but his body felt so heavy, as if he had gained 50 pounds in the few hours he had been gone. He could hear his father getting up from the bed though, so he pushed himself upwards as hard as he could with both of his hands and got back on his feet. He was half way down the hall when he heard the door open and his father coming out.  
  
“…Hannibal?” Mr. Lecter’s voice held a mixture of confusion and disbelief, almost doubting that the teenager whose back he was staring at through the darkness was his son.  
  
The lights were turned on and Hannibal closed his eyes and bit his lower lip, letting his head down, his back still turned to his father. He heard his mother coming out of the room as well, asking what was going on and he sighed. There was no way for him to get out of that anymore. He’d have to tell them the truth. Lying would just make matters worse. Besides, he couldn’t even think of a good enough lie that could explain why he was dressed like that or why he had sneaked out of the house in the first place. He was not the type of boy who did that and his parents knew it better than anyone.  
  
“Hi, dad,” he said, when he finally grew the courage to turn around and face his father. “I’m sorry for waking you up.”  
  
“Where exactly have you been? And what on Earth are you wearing??”  
  
His father didn’t sound confused anymore, he just sounded angry. His mother was looking at him with wide eyes, as if she had witnessed him murdering someone. Things were not going well. The anxiety reached such a high point that Hannibal felt as if he might collapse or his heart might explode out of his chest. He was sure he would have been even more terrified if he was sober. The drowsiness was the only thing keeping him away from a full on panic attack.  
  
“I went out with Will,” he confessed. “These are his clothes, he borrowed them to me.”  
  
“Will?” his mother asked, puzzled.  
  
“The boy next door,” Hannibal explained. “Our neighbor.”  
  
Hannibal witnessed with dread as his parents expressions changed completely as soon as they processed the information. His father’s dormant anger switched to a burning rage in a matter of seconds and his mother looked simply revolted. The young boy closed his eyes again, both to force himself to calm his fear and to try to clear his hazy vision.   
  
“You went out with that dirty little street rat?!” Mr. Lecter yelled.  
  
“Stop calling him that…” Hannibal pleaded. “He’s a good boy, father. The only reason you don’t like him is because his family isn’t as rich as ours. If you would only get to know him, you would –“   
  
“I have no interest in getting to know him!” Mr. Lecter said, so loud that it made Hannibal take a step back. “I cannot believe that you snacked out of the house in the middle of the night like a thief to go meet that boy behind our backs! This is unacceptable behavior, Hannibal! You’re better than that. Or you used to be, at least. My God, we haven’t even finished unpacking yet and you have already started to change! I knew that moving here was a bad idea.”  
  
Hannibal’s fear of his father rapidly changed into irritation. His head was pounding and the yelling was only making it more painful. He pressed his shoulder against the wall to keep himself up, covering his eyes with his right hand and massaging his temples. All he wanted to do was go to bed. He didn’t know for how long he would be able to keep standing there. His legs felt weak and tired.  
  
“Are you even listening to me, Hannibal?”  
  
“Yes!” he replied, on an exasperated tone. “Yes, I hear you, father… I’m sorry, alright? I really am. Can I just go to bed, please? I don’t feel so well.”  
  
“Is he… drunk?” Mrs. Lecter asked, staring at her son with squinted eyes but speaking to her husband.  
  
Mr. Lecter looked at her for a moment and then turned his gaze back to Hannibal. He walked closer to him and Hannibal felt the need to take a few steps back, but he remained still. He left his head down when his father grabbed him by the shirt harshly and pulled him closer, smelling him.  
  
“You reek of whiskey and cigarettes,” he said, before shoving the boy away violently. Hannibal’s back him the wall behind him hard and he left out a small groan of pain. “This is unbelievable… I don’t even know what to do with you.”  
  
Mrs. Lecter took her husband’s arm in both her hands and held onto it gently while pulling him slowly away from their son. “Try to calm down, dear. I am sure he deeply regrets what he has done. Isn’t that right, Hannibal?” The boy nodded fast, staring at the ground and his mother forced a smile. “See? We’re all too tired and incapable of clear thinking at this time. I think we should leave this conversation for tomorrow, when we’re all calm and rested.”  
  
_‘Bless you, mom,’_ Hannibal thought. He raised his head back up and looked at his father, praying he would just agree to the idea. And he did. Though it was obvious that he was still angry and disappointed, he did agree. “Just go to your room. And take those God awful clothes off! I never want to see you looking like that again.”  
  
“Yes, sir,” Hannibal nodded.  
  
He turned around and walked down the hall as fast as he could, making sure not to trip again. Once he was in his bedroom, his back pressed against the door, he left out a loud, hard breath, his body trembling slowly. He had never seen his father that upset before, and, during the entire conversation, he had thought the man would attack him and try to hurt him. He was happy that had not happened, but he wasn’t sure if the rest of the night would be enough to fully calm his father. What if the next morning, when they were ‘calm and rested’, his father would still hate him?  
  
_‘Well, you’re just going to have to deal with it, if that happens,’_ he told himself. _‘And if dad is still mad and he decides to punish you, you’ll be brave and strong about it. Because it would be worth it, wouldn’t it? You had fun and you made a great friend. It was worth it.’  
  
_ Was Will his friend though? He wasn’t sure. Mischa had been his friend. His sister and his best friend. His only friend, actually. There had been kids from school that he had played with, some that he would even bring home sometimes, and, as he grew up more, some that he would go out with every now and then. Of course, they wouldn’t go out to clubs. They would go to see musicals and operas, ballet sometimes, then for a dinner at a restaurant, maybe. Had they been his friends? He couldn’t really tell. The concept of friendship was bizarre and foreign to him. Did he enjoy their company? To a certain degree, he did. And spending time with them was clearly better than sitting all day long in the room from the gigantic mansion they used to live in. But was he ever truly excited or happy to meet them? No. Definitely not.  
  
While he was undressing, Hannibal found himself wondering what made Will so different than all those boys from the past. Why had he been able to bring a smile on his face, a real one, like only Mischa used to, and that had disappeared completely at the same time she did? Why was he excited to see Will again, even if he knew his father would never agree to them seeing each other? _‘Maybe it’s because he’s so different.’  
  
_ Will was different. Different from all the people Hannibal had ever met. He was honest, cheerful and crazy, and, above all, he was free. Will could do everything he wanted – or at least, that’s what it seemed like – and he wasn’t scared of anything. He lived by no rules, no etiquette, no rigid, social standards. And, that night, while he was there at that club, watching Will sing and speaking to Will’s friends, Hannibal had felt that freedom too. It was like being released from some painful, invisible chains that he had not even known existed.   
  
Hannibal left Will’s clothes on an armchair and started putting his pajama on. He looked out the window at Will’s bedroom window. The lights were turned off and there was no sound coming from his friend’s house. Clearly, unlike him, Will’s parents had not caused any scandal. _‘I wish I had parents like his. I wish I didn’t have money. I wish I was him. No… I wish I was with him.’_ He laughed at his own thoughts and shook his head, trying to banish them. “This is stupid,” he said, out loud.  
  
He climbed in his bed, pulled the covers over his body, and fell asleep almost as soon as his head touched the pillow.

 

*

 

The next morning, Hannibal woke up feeling the most horrible headache he had ever experienced. It was like a dozen little hammers were repeatedly hitting his head from all directions. The clock on his bed showed 10 AM. He usually woke up at about 7 and if he didn’t, his mother would come to wake him up at 8 at the latest. That morning, she had not come. He wondered if it was because she was mad at him or because she knew he had went to bed so late and had wanted to let him sleep for as long as he pleased. He leaned towards the first option.  
  
Showering didn’t help at all – if anything, it just made his headache worse – but he tried his best not to think about it. If he wanted to at least have a chance of making things up with his parents, he would have to act as if everything was fine and as if he had been completely unaffected by his small escaped of the previous night. He dressed in one of his suits – the black and blue one that his father liked a lot – and he combed his hair neatly on the back. He was back to being his normal, boring self. _‘Will would hate this…’_ he thought, unsure about why he even cared what Will would think.  
  
He found his parents in the living room when he finally went downstairs, about half an hour after waking up. His father was on the couch, reading the newspaper. His mother was next to him, with a book in her hands that she was only pretending to read. Hannibal could tell, since her eyes were not moving at all. They were fixated lost on the page. She often pretended to read when she was sad or upset but she didn’t want to be bothered. He knew that he was the reason for whatever negative emotions she was feeling and that brought the bitter taste of guilt in his mouth. But not regret. No matter how bad he felt, he did not regret what he had done.  
  
“Good morning…” he softly said, to announce his presence there.  
  
They both turned to look at him and he tried to force a little smile as he walked to the armchair next to the couch and sat down, crossing his legs. He mentally took a deep breath in, bracing himself for whatever they were going to throw at him. His parents, however, seemed strangely calm. There was nothing in their eyes except for disappointment. For some reason, that stung much worse than anger.  
  
“We’ve already had breakfast but you were sleeping and your mother insisted not to wake you up,” Mr. Lecter said, folding the paper and letting it rest on his legs.  
  
“It’s fine. I am not hungry anyway,” Hannibal replied. He really wasn’t, which was unusual for him. “I’ll be fine with just a coffee.”  
  
“I will go bring you one,” his mother said, getting up.  
  
She walked away before Hannibal could even get a word in. It was strange to see his mother actually doing domestic things, like cooking or cleaning or bringing them what they needed. They used to have 6 servants before, back at their mansion from Lithuania. They had left all that luxury behind and while it was odd, Hannibal liked it. He liked the change. His parents didn’t though. Not one bit. They had simply done it out of safety reasons.   
  
Mr. Lecter took his pack of cigarettes from the table and pulled one out. “Do you want one?” He asked his son, pushing the pack closer to him.  
  
Hannibal could tell that it was a sarcastic question, almost a test. He left his head down, trying not to roll his eyes. “Dad, I –“  
  
“For how long have you been smoking?” His father interrupted him, throwing the pack back on the table and lighting his cigarette up.  
  
“Last night was the first time I smoked. I swear,” Hannibal said. “I will never do it again if you don’t want me to.”  
  
“What I want is for you to never see that boy again. You have no reason to associate with him and he is clearly a bad influence on you.”  
  
Hannibal kept his gaze lowered and squeezed his left hand into a fist to try to control the anger he felt. His father’s words were everything he had hoped he would not hear. He did not want to stop seeing Will. For the first time in his life, he had found a real friend, someone with whom he actually wanted to spend time with, someone who could make him smile. He was not going to give up on him.  
  
Mrs. Lecter returned to the room with the coffee right when Hannibal was ready to say something. He looked at her when she handed him the cup, noticing the bags under her eyes that she had tried but failed to perfectly cover with makeup. She had obviously not been able to sleep much after he had wakened them. Hannibal took a sip of his coffee, deciding against saying what he had planned to say. It was better if he talked as little as he could.  
  
“Well?” his father enquired, after a minute or so. “Can you promise that you will never see that boy again?”  
  
“No,” Hannibal answered, without thinking too much. “I don’t think I can do that, father.”  
  
“Excuse me? I think I didn’t hear you right.”  
  
He was offering Hannibal a chance to take it back, but Hannibal didn’t need it. “You heard me right. I want to keep seeing Will. And I am going to keep seeing him, whether you like it or not.”  
  
Mr. Lecter left out a dry laugh of disbelief and shook his head, taking a strong puff from his cigarette. “You are so ungrateful.”  
  
“What?” Hannibal asked.  
  
“We came here for you, Hannibal. So that you would be safe. You know this change is not easy for us, but after what happened to your sister, we…” Mr. Lecter paused, closed his eyes and left out a hard breath. Only after taking a few more puffs of his cigarette was he able to start talking again. “We just want to make sure nothing will happen to you. And yet you choose to put yourself in danger!”  
  
“What danger?” Hannibal yelled, unable to control himself. “Will is not a threat to me, father. He would never harm me!”  
  
“Maybe,” the man agreed. “Maybe he won’t. But he is around people who could. Being around him would expose you to people who could harm you.”  
  
“You’re just being paranoid…” Hannibal said. “Not everyone who doesn’t have money is a threat to me.”  
  
“I am not going to argue with you and I am not going to accept a no!” His father firmly stated. “You will not see that boy again and you will not leave this house without my permission.”  
  
“So what? I’m a prisoner here now?”  
  
“No. You can leave the house, as long as I know when, with who and at one time you will return. These are the rules.”  
  
“It’s not my fault that you couldn’t protect Mischa, you know?” Hannibal said, in almost a whisper.  
  
There were tears in his eyes; tears of sadness and frustration. His father looked at him, shocked and angry. “What did you say?”  
  
“Nothing…”  
  
 “If you think, for one second, that we didn’t do everything we could…”  
  
“I don’t. I know you did. I’m sorry.” He regretted saying that. He shouldn’t have brought it up and he knew it. The truth was he had just wanted to hurt his father. And he had managed. “Can I just go to my room?”  
  
His father didn’t say anything. He just nodded silently and Hannibal got up almost instantly, leaving his almost untouched cup of coffee on the table and walking fast out of the room. Tears were threatening to start rolling down his face but he didn’t want to cry. He had cried way too much in the past year. He feared that if he’d start crying again, he wouldn’t be able to stop anymore.  
  
The first thing he noticed when he went back to his room was that Will’s window was opened. There was no Rock’n’Roll music that could be heard, so Hannibal walked to his own window, curios to see what his friend was doing. He saw him sitting in his bed, with a book in his hands. The sun made his curly hair sparkle beautifully, and Hannibal found himself thinking that Will was definitely the most beautiful boy of his age he had ever seen. He stood there for a few minutes, just watching him, admiring him, until the tears from his eyes dried and a smile appeared on his face without him even realizing.  
  
“What are you reading?” He asked, loud enough for Will to hear.  
  
Will, who had clearly been unaware that Hannibal had been watching him, look at him past the book and smiled back. He got up from the bed and walked to his own window. “I’m reading John’s book,” he said, showing him the cover of John Lennon’s ‘In His Own Write’. “It’s both hilarious and deep. I love it!”  
  
Hannibal laughed and shook his head slowly. “I don’t know what I was expecting.”  
  
“Don’t start. The Beatles are fab. Let’s not argue about that,” Will said, on a serious tone, though he kept smiling. “Did your parents find out that you went out last night?”  
  
“Oh yeah…” Hannibal nodded. “My father is furious. He wants me to never see you again. He ordered me not to even speak to you anymore.”  
  
Will’s smile turned into a little smirk. “I’m glad to see you rebelling against that.”  
  
“I had fun last night,” Hannibal said, both as a remark and as a justification for why he was breaking the rules. “More fun than I’ve ever had in my life, actually. I loved to hear you sing.”  
  
“Thank you. I had fun too.”  
  
They just looked at each other for a moment and Hannibal wished that he was closer to Will, close enough to wrap his arms around him in a hug. Close enough to feel the strong smell of cigarettes that all of Will’s clothes seemed to be drenched in. Close enough to feel him near. All of these were strange desires that had never crossed his mind before in regard to nothing and no one. And, though he didn’t understand much about friendship, he was pretty sure that people do not generally feel that for their friends. It reminded him more of what lovers felt for one another in the few romance books he had read. But Will was a boy – one that his father deeply despised as well – so he couldn’t have a crush for him. He couldn’t fall in love with him. He shouldn’t.  
  
“Are you going to turn the music on?” He asked, managing – somehow – to not let even a bit of his inner thoughts and struggle to show on his face.  
  
“Do you want me to?” Will asked back.  
  
“Yes.”  
  
Will’s smile grew and he turned around, walking to the back of his room and searching through his records. He finally decided on one and placed it carefully in the player as Hannibal was watching him. The song started with a loud count to 4, before the instruments kicked it. Will yelled in excitement and Hannibal laughed.  
  
“Well she was just seventeen, you know what I mean,” Will sang along, as he made his way back to the window. “Who sings this one?”  
  
Hannibal stopped laughing and took a moment to think, listening to the singer’s voice closely. “Lennon..?” he tried.  
  
“No! It’s Paul! Paul McCartney,” Will laughed.   
  
He seemed very amused by the fact that Hannibal couldn’t tell the Beatle’s voices apart. Hannibal giggled, looking at him. Will had the most beautiful smile in the world. “I’m sorry. I am sure you can help me learn more about them.”  
  
“You can bet! I will teach you everything about them!”   
  
Will looked so sweet and cheerful and, though Hannibal still didn’t find the Beatles as amazing as he did, he loved seeing the happiness they were able to bring to his friend, and that made him think that he might be able to tolerate them, even start liking them. No. Actually, he was sure of it.


End file.
